Just Do It
by Big Twinkie
Summary: Danny thinks a relationship with his best friend is impossible until a late night confession. Hot Fuzz.
1. Chapter 1

Just Do It

In response to the Happy meme, posted at the SandfordPolice community. Danny believes a romantic relationship with his best friend is impossible until a late night confession.

Chapter 1

1

Danny accepted he was big guy and didn't really mind he had a keg instead of a six pack. What was the point in living if you didn't enjoy yourself? So he went ahead and ate what he wanted and wouldn't touch light beer with a ten-foot pole.

However, it was fairly depressing when he had tried to put on a pair of trousers and couldn't get the zipper to zip. No amount of sucking it in was going to help, and these where his church pants, soon to be his court pants, and Danny and Nick were supposed to be leaving in an hour. During Danny's recovery from the business end of a blunderbuss, he ate nonstop, and nobody had said anything while he blew up like a house. He was not easily embarrassed, but his face still burned when he had to tell Nick what the hold up was.

"Nick…," all forlorn, still lying down on his bed, "I think I've grown as a person."

Nick seemed relieved it was a wardrobe malfunction, rather than jitters and lured Danny out of his flat with the promise of new trousers, and telling him not to worry so much. Danny found all this niceness irritating.

"Why didn't you say anything? If you were really my friend, you'd say: "Danny, put down that cake, your ass is getting wide."

Nick gave him that funny look, "Well for one, I wouldn't say that. And two, I hadn't even noticed."

Somehow, that was more depressing. Danny was forever in the friend zone, like the brother you never had, cute, but never thought of in that way. At least he could tell himself it was because Nick was straight and not disinterested for other reasons, so Danny was fully prepared to take all that unrequited love and put it in the corner of his mind. It would probably give him tumor, but whatever…so long as Nick was in his life, Danny was satisfied.

Several weeks passed by after the trouser incident, when the issue of his health came up again. Danny had seen his doctor, well, his new doctor, and received the usual lecture regarding his health: eat less, drink less, and exercise more. Danny nodded to whatever his doctor said, knowing he wasn't going to do any of these things. Oh, there had been a time when he was young and naïve, and had tried to get in shape with diet gimmicks. There were the pills and workout machines advertised at 2 a.m. He'd bought a sort of belt that was supposed to workout your abs for you while you watch the telly, but all it did was vibrate. He had bought a vibrator for his stomach, awesome. The pills didn't make the fat burn off and all the gadgets wound up in the bin or collected dust.

Then he did something he would learn to regret shortly after. When Nicholas asked about his checkup, Danny had casually mentioned his cholesterol was too high, which lead to his friend getting all excited about having a "workout buddy". Danny smiled, nodded, and thought, Dear God, kill me now. Danny knew Nick meant what he said when he started to prattle on about the importance of fiber.

"Um, can I stop you right there?"

"Sure, go ahead." Nick waited expectedly. Apparently he thought there was more. Silly rabbit.

"That's it."

"So you're not going to do anything about this?"

"Nick, I've been on a diet my whole life."

"You're not on a diet right now are you?"

"No," Danny said, sullen, stopped eating his ice cream. Can't a guy self-destruct in peace?

"I bet I could make those pants fit again."

"I'm sure you could too, but will I survive it? You have this tendency to go overboard with things. I mean, who really needs that many vitamin supplements in their medicine cabinet?"

"Wait," Nick's brow furrowed, "You've been going through my medicine cabinet?"

"Uhhh, no…"

"Look, you'll feel better and have more energy. And if I recall correctly, you practically accused me of not looking out for you, so first thing tomorrow you're going with me on my morning run."

"At six-thirty in the bloody morning? I don't think so."

"You're going," Nick said. "It'll be fun. You'll see."

"No, I won't."

"Besides," Nick continued, completely ignoring him, "you have to live longer than me and you won't at the rate you're going."

"What do you expect me die of? Old age?"

"You can die however you want, so long as it's after me. I'd get too lonely."

"Aww. So once you're dead, I can eat whatever I want?"

"No," Nick grinned, "I've arranged it in my will that you're to be buried with me. So I suspect you'll die of asphyxiation shortly after my death."

"You know, there's such a thing as spending too much time together."

2

That was the last time Danny would be so honest with Nicholas again. The only thing worse than a moody Nicholas, was a perky one waking you at the crack of dawn to go running. Nicholas wore spotless white shorts, white trainers, and shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar. Danny had to resist the urge to undo a button, if he didn't end up strangling Nick first.

"Hey, champ!" Nicholas shook Danny's shoulder and pulled the curtains open. Danny groaned and covered his head with the comforter.

"How did you even get in here," Danny asked, his voice muffled and not feeling very awake.

"You gave me a key."

Oh right, it might've been easier to avoid this, if he had remembered that little detail.

"Hey, can I have that back…"

"No," Nick said cheerfully, "Come on, we're wasting daylight."

Maybe…if he stayed really still and played dead, Nicholas would just…go away for a few hours, and he could get some sleep. That was the plan until Nicholas started to yank the comforter down. Danny went from sleep mode to red alert in two seconds flat, clutching his blankets in terror.

"OY! I'M NAKED!"

A few seconds passed, with Danny looking down his bed at Nicholas and Nicholas looking back at him, the comforter bunched in both fists.

"Are you really," Nicholas asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.

"YES!"

Nicholas seemed to consider this and shrugged.

"I'll take my chances," Nick said, and continued to pull the comforter with Danny sliding down his mattress along with it.

"ALRIGHT, GODDAMMIT, I'LL GO, I'LL GO!"

Ten minutes later, Danny came out of his bedroom wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He gave Nicholas the most deadly, rebellious stare he could muster. It wasn't hard.

"Don't worry, it gets easier after awhile."

"Yeah, sure," Danny muttered, leaving behind valuable sleeping time, "And butts might fly out of my monkey."

"What?"

"Nothing," Danny called out.

Danny didn't so much as run, as jog, and by jogging he meant trotting along beside Nicholas, and by trotting, he meant total agony. When they stopped to rest by the primary school, Danny wiped his brow and was glad they didn't have breakfast first like he suggested.

"How we doing," Nicholas asked, patting Danny's shoulder. Danny bent down, spat on the ground, and wiped his mouth. Object of his Affection be damned, he didn't care if he offended Nick's delicate sensibilities right then. He was quite fed up with Nick's "I know what's best for you" attitude at the moment. Danny puffed, looked up into Nick's concerned face.

"You're not even sweaty!"

Afterwards they headed to Nick's place (a shorter distance than Danny's flat) and had vegetarian omelets. Danny sat down, simply grateful to be somewhere with air conditioning, watching Nick make some sort of smoothie. If he didn't drop from a heart attack that green sludge would surely kill him.

"Today was good. How do you feel?"

"Tired."

"It will get easier, after awhile."

"You keep saying that," Danny said, leaning against the counter. Nicholas poured two glasses of sludge and handed one to Danny.

Off Danny's look, Nick said, "Try it."

Danny did what he was told, and to his credit didn't spit it back into the cup. Nicholas missed this act of utter devotion and finished his omelets, bringing their plates to the kitchen table. Danny followed, sat down, and they started eating.

"Oh, don't forget about those PDR forms," Nick said, "The Home Office wants them in by Monday."

While he was away a new appraisal system had started that required Sergeants and Inspectors to complete a long and complicated form, carry out a risk assessment, fill out a supervisor's check list, and then send it to personnel with a covering memo. In other words it was a big pain in the ass. It was the sort of mind-numbing drudgery that made him long for John Woo action instead of his desk. Why even give them patrol cars, if everybody was inside doing paperwork? To his delight, Nicholas agreed with him.

"So why do they want us to fill those things out again?"

"To monitor and record our 'professional development', set diversity objectives and list our skills and 'competencies'. Or something of the sort. A waste of time is what it really is."

"Yeah. Okay. So who even decides on all that?"

"I asked but couldn't get a straight answer."

"Doesn't the Home Office require us to cut down on paperwork?"

"Yes."

"So…they give us more paperwork? What the hell do they want?"

"They don't know. How's the smoothie?"

"It's…great," Danny said. To prove this he took a big swig of it and felt a chunk of something in his mouth. He gulped it down with a lot of effort and tears in his eyes.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to drink that," Nick said, amused.

"Thank you," Danny wheezed and pushed the drink away, thoroughly relived.

Nick chuckled to himself, looking up on occasion and smiling at Danny through the rest of breakfast. It had the effect of making butterflies in Danny's stomach, but he easily convinced himself it was the smoothie.

3

Danny hated running, hated it with a burning passion. The only running he ever did was by accident. Sure, he had played rugby when he was younger, but "younger" was a long time ago. And honestly, unless you're were heading toward the arms of a true love, breaking through social barriers, or just escaping a powerful cyborg sent from the future to destroy mankind, there wasn't any good reason to run.

His shins hurt from the impact. His ankles rolled easily whenever he attempted speed. There was a lot of huffing and puffing. It was boring. And he was falling down more than usual. The only thing about running he enjoyed was when he got to stop.

And then there was Nick.

"Danny…Danny…Danny…"

Then…

"Danny, time to wake up."

"Uuuuuuugh…Whattimeisit?"

"Come on, then. I thought country boys were used to getting up early?"

Danny groaned, instinctively curled in to himself, and cracked his eyes at a smirking Nicholas standing over him. Nicholas looked momentarily disappointed and sighed.

"Oh well. Nice jammies by the way. Boats…sexy."

"Vurryfunny," Danny rubbed his eyes, looked at his alarm clock and scowled. "It's not even six-thirty yet! Are you completely mental?"

Nick checked his watch, gave it a tap, completely unconcerned with the question of his sanity. "Hmm. Perhaps my watch is a bit fast. Sorry." He frowned and then added brightly, "Well you're awake now, so we might as well warm up. Are those schooners or frigates? I can never tell."

"Frigates," Danny growled, "And I don't wear jammies."

They did the stretching exercises, warmed up, and then Danny endured one point five miles of torture. During such time Danny became reflective, philosophical really, about Nick being a complete nutter.

Danny had known Nicholas was crazy, but it hadn't really bothered him until now. Danny accepted his friend was disgustingly fussy and organized. He understood that Nicholas needed to color-code his post-it notes. That he believed filing in triplicate was perfectly normal. That he divided his closet into sections: weekend clothes, workday clothes and dressy clothes. That he straightened the books on other people's book shelves. That was fine, so long as Nicholas didn't try to convert Danny to his mad idea of 'effectiveness'.

It went on for weeks. Just how pushy could Nicholas Angel be? Very. Just how lazy could Danny be? Very. But Nick refused to accept this fact, even after the bus incident. They had been jogging along, and there was the St Vincent bus just waiting there, so Danny let himself fall behind Nicholas. Just as the bus was about to leave Danny ran to the door and boarded the bus. It was the sort of public transportation timing that hadn't been seen since Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate. The bus sped off and Danny had cheerfully waved to a completely dumbfounded Nicholas.

Danny had felt pretty good about his decision for a whole five minutes, but unfortunately there was no Simon and Garfunkle music to make him feel better. They had finally bumped into to each other at headquarters, and Nick looked pissed, but that was how he usually looked. Danny had learned a long time ago that Nick was all bark and no bite, unless there were crimes to be had. Danny leaned back in his chair and smiled at him. This was what happened when an unstoppable force met an immovable object.

"I vill break you."

"Doubtful. You'd have to get off your ass first."

4

"So I run out to the parking lot, right? And I hop on my dirt bike, but oh no, it won't start, and Nick is slowly walking towards me. Slowly, slowly, in an almost casual manner, and just when he's about to reach me, I finally get my bike to work. I drive that little bike as fast as it can go, but Nick starts running after me in that robotic way that he does, hinting at his inhuman abilities. I leap over a hedge and onto the street, hoping to lose him, but he commandeers a semi-truck and chases me down the Los Angeles River, which isn't really a river, more like a really big ditch. And Nick says, 'You must do the thing you think you cannot do', all Zen and shit, but what I'm doing is sweating my balls off."

"Um, okay," Doris sipped her tea, "How much of that really happened, Danny?"

"The last part, you dizzy dame. I don't own a dirt bike."

"Shame…"

"I know. But seriously, it was a lot like that."

It was unusually quiet in the bullpen, even for Sandford Police Headquarters. Or temporary headquarters, rather, having moved what was left of the old one into the former Lloyds Bank on Park Street. They wouldn't be moving again until April. The new building was being built on the original site, having been conveniently demolished and all, and would be the same as the old one. Danny still had mixed feelings on that matter.

Except for Doris, and Owen Turner dishing out his own personal brand of "wisdom" to civilians, not much was going on. For once this was a relief. Danny just couldn't be buggered to leave his chair at the moment, or move…he didn't think he could muster the strength or energy for something as demanding as standing upright.

"Hoodies…Centre…fountain…So what are they doin' now?" Owen asked, and resumed doodling in his notepad. "Riiight, well you see we arrest people who commit crimes and such. That's what we do here. And sitting isn't actually a crime so…uh huh...uh huh…I understand, but..."

"You don't get it," Danny said, biting into a jelly donut. God he missed donuts. And they were just lying around on Andy's desk, begging to be mooched off of. "The guy's obsessed! He's got me doing squats at my desk!"

"I know," Doris laughed, "That was—"

Danny gave her a murderous stare.

"…just…not funny at all…"

Doris went back to chewing her pen and looking over some forms, and attempting to be blasé. "Have you thought about telling him about how you feel?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but I don't see what you expect us to do about it. They're allowed to sit there."

"Blokes don't talk about 'feelings' and if they do they talk for five minutes tops while fixing something in the garage."

"Oh please, that's just some dumb stereotype."

"No, you can't talk to him right now, he's… No, he's not here…Elsewhere, I suppose. How should I know?"

Danny just shrugged, and tried not to groan in orgasmic ecstasy at the taste of sprinkles and purple goo. He was not above making faces and leaning back in orgasmic ecstasy, though. God, he missed sugar. He missed food.

"Jim's not like that. He's sensitive."

"Which one is Jim," he asked, with mouth full of donut.

"He's the artist. Jim Wesley, y'know, you've met him."

"If you could leave your name and number, he can…He'll ring you back…um hmm…"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

Owen took an imaginary gun to his head and blew his imaginary brains out.

"Just last week his friend was really depressed and Jim went over to talk to him," Doris started to get that gleam in her eye, a sly smile on her face. "He's so yummy. You lot had better be nice to him when he comes to pick me up tonight. I already have a brother. I don't need seven more, thank you."

Danny sighed. Poor Doris. Poor, deluded, innocent Doris. Well, maybe not innocent, but almost certainly kidding herself.

"I don' know what he was doing, but I can guarantee he wasn't at his friend's house to talk. That's just a guy's way of weaseling out of seeing you without hurting your feelings."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I have another call on the line…"

Doris looked a bit alarmed and then sulked, sinking back into her chair, "You're cheating on your diet."

"Yep. Relax, he probably wanted to drink beer and watch the game."

"He could do that with me," Doris pouted. "I am way more interesting than his loser friends."

"You have a good day now, m'kay?"

"None of my girlfriends would have. I always fall for the high-maintenance ones."

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you?"

Owen hung up the phone and continued to read his paperback, perfectly content to go back to ignoring people. Which was best really, whether other people realized it or not.

Danny chewed for a few seconds, furrowed his brow. It took a few seconds for that to compute and he wasn't quite sure what to say. He probably shouldn't even ask, continue to eat donuts, and pretend to be dumb, but he did it anyway because he was that dumb.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I should think things would be easier if you just dated your drinking buddy." Doris shrugged. "That's all I'm saying."

Danny grunted and went back to pretending to filling out paperwork. He had actually finished fifteen minutes ago.

"Now if you ask me," Owen began loftily from behind his book.

"Didn't!"

Danny gathered everything and went to the Records Room, feeling a little hot around the collar. Occasional teasing was one thing, but he wasn't in the mood to be constantly picked on by everybody, whether they thought it was for his own good or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

1

"Helloooo, gorgeous."

"Somebody with stamina."

"Tony? Tony? Pipe that feed in here now."

All the network executives watched Arnold Schwarzenegger run majestically in slow motion. Danny tried to watch the film even though he's seen it at least half a dozen times already. Nicholas had dozed off during _Eraser_ and wasn't watching either.

Danny had a lot of DVDs, and had spent many a night watching them alone. He had almost a couple hundred, a good deal of them bought after he moved back to Sandford. Either because of repeated viewing, or that time in his life after Mum passed away, the films he had watched had stuck in his brain and stayed there. Six years later, things were sad and confusing again, except that Nicholas was with him, even if he did sleep through half the films. Nicholas sleeping on the couch made his flat even cozier than it really was.

And Nick's leg was pressed against his, all smooth and toned, and disturbing Danny with its "thereness", but he didn't want to pull away. Somehow, he always managed to wander into Nick's orbit and stay there. And it was hard to ignore Nick all relaxed and spread out on the couch, his legs widely parted and face tilted towards Danny.

"Take a look at this. This is yesterday's prison break. Look at that mother move, huh? Isn't he beautiful? Who is he?"

Danny sighed, watching Nick longer than was appropriate, leaning more against him than was appropriate, getting closer to his face than was appropriate.

"Sensational! Perfect contestant! I want him."

"Can't have him."

That's when Nick suddenly screamed, which had the effect of repelling Danny like a physical force.

"AHHHHH!"

"AHHHHH," yelled Danny, and rocked back all the way to the other end of the couch, and then fell off the couch all together. He stared up at Nick in total shock while he limply fought off something invisible.

"BEES!"

"Bees?!?"

Nicholas then went back to sleep just as suddenly as he screamed, leaving Danny to just stare in wonder. What the hell _was_ that? Just when he thought he'd seen all of his mate's peculiar ticks…

Danny picked himself off the floor, feeling a little foolish, and shook Nicholas on the shoulder. Great bloody tease sleeping on _his_ couch and screaming for no particular reason at all! Bees?!?

"OY! Wake up! C'mon!"

Nicholas came slowly around, blurry eyed and confused. Fully deserved it he did, scaring Danny like that. He rubbed his face with a hand and looked up at Danny, a bit stunned to find someone standing over him.

"What?"

"If you're _going_ to sleep through the entire film anyway," Danny scowled, arms crossed over his chest, "you might as well _go home._"

Nicholas scowled too, "_Alriiight,_" had trouble getting up off the couch. Danny sat back down on the couch and watched him leave. They didn't do any of the usual good nights, just Nick leaving in a huff. And afterwards Danny was alone in his flat again, pissed off and sexually frustrated in a way only Nicholas Angel could make him.

2

Nicholas hadn't come by his flat that morning but managed to corner him at Danny's desk, looking very much the part of the concerned friend. Danny focused on the computer screen as much as humanly possible.

"I realize you're frustrated, but you need to consider your health."

Danny sighed loudly and continued to type up his report.

"I'm sorry, I appreciate your concern, psychotic as it may be, but I've got more pressing shit to do than exercise."

"_Like wha__t_? Play World of War Craft and surf the internet?"

"And porn," Danny added helpfully.

"Well as important as that is, I think you can dedicate an hour to healthy living. Come on, go jogging with me."

"No."

"It adds years to your life and—"

"Can't live forever," Danny shrugged, looked up from his report. He can't be any clearer about it. "You're bossy as hell, you know that? Thank god for that ass."

"Yes…well…," Nick's deadpan expression faltered and he let out a small laugh. Danny laughed too, but much longer and more uneasily than Nick.

"Perhaps I can convince you some other way?"

"Oh yeah? It had better be absolutely brilliant then."

"If I can't appeal to your logos," Nicholas sighed, pulled up a chair, "then I'll try pathos. Now I don't like talking about it, but I'm going to tell you about my Uncle David."

"Oh lord…"

"Uncle David was passionate about life, but indulged too much with everything. He ate and drank in excess for decades, and ended up having a massive coronary in the bathroom. And that wasn't the worse part. Since he was unemployed at the time and lived alone, he wasn't discovered until three weeks later partially eaten by his German Shepard."

Danny stared at him, mouth open. "Are you making this up?"

"Well…okay, he wasn't so much my Uncle, as some other bloke."

"Who?"

"I don't remember," Nicholas shrugged, "but if you make me find you partially eaten by dogs I'm going to be very upset with you."

"I don't own a dog. My landlord won't let me have one."

"That's beside the point."

"Yeeeaah…Okay. Thanks for that love_ly_ story, but still no."

Nicholas sighed, "_Please?_"

3

Danny crawled out of bed, put on some sweats, and managed to make it out into the street. It was the first time he was ready to go before Nicholas got there, which was really saying something about a man who was always in a hurry to be somewhere. Danny hiked up a leg against the bumper of his car and did some deep stretches, jumped around a bit, still no Nicholas until 6:45.

If music were to play while Danny ran, it would be the Monty Python song they do during the chase scenes. He was the most awkward runner he'd even seen. He got all red in the face and probably looked like he was having a stroke. If music were to play while Nick ran, it'd be Chariots of Fire. Or the T-1000 theme, Danny couldn't decide. Either way, Danny could easily picture his friend running across a beach somewhere.

"Hey," Nick called out, looking pleased. He came to a stop, slightly flushed and sweaty from his run. "Sorry I'm late. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

"That's the spirit."

They started a light jog, foot steps falling in synch with each other. Danny couldn't be sure if he was being sarcastic or trying really, _really_ hard to be optimistic. Either way, Danny was going along with it for reasons he couldn't explain.

Well, no, not really. He knew why.

Even when he was being a complete pain in the ass, Danny didn't like disappointing Nick. Danny just wished he didn't ask for so much. He didn't get that "second wind" people talk about, that magically gave them energy. All he got was tired for the rest of the day and into the next, spending the rest of it in custody processing D&Ds telling him to get cancer and die. It was not fucking _worth it_.

But Nicholas has a way of convincing people to do things they didn't want to do, and afterwards you're still upset even though you actually agreed to do it because there's no escape from that patient, excruciatingly logical tone. He needed to somehow outmaneuver Nicholas, if he was going to have any chance to be right.

"You know," Danny said casually, "I was reading something about running being bad for your knees. And I quite like the use of my knees."

"It depends on the surface you're running on. Try running on the grass instead." Nicholas seemed to consider this and frowned, "Are your knees bothering you right now?"

Actually they weren't right now, but after getting the shin splints last week, Danny had decided he'd had enough of this running about. After a short debate between being macho and wanting to complain, complaining finally won out.

"Yes. There's whole lot more of me to carry around than there is of you, in case you haven't noticed."

"We'd better stop then," Nick came to a halt. Success! "I wouldn't want to cripple you."

"Well thanks, Nick. I wouldn't want you to cripple me either."

Nicholas' frown deepened, "Then what would you like to do? Keeping in mind it actually has raise your heart rate."

Bollocks. Danny shrugged, non-committal, although he could think of a hundred things he'd rather be doing. Yanking down Nick's shorts and tenderly pounding that ass of his certainly comes to mind. Danny's been staring at it enough for the past few weeks, to be sure. It was like dangling a carrot in front of a very stubborn mule.

"How about we go to the gym instead," Nicholas asked.

4

Danny hated going to the gym. They had to go all the way to Buford Abby since the good people of Sandford decided they didn't need one. And when they got there, usually in the evening, it stunk in there. The free weight area especially. Danny could swear he smelled diarrhea one night and gagged, opting to stay off the benches altogether.

People who go to gyms were a curious lot. You could always manage to find certain types. Mr. Inconsiderate Sweaty Guy, for instance. Danny had hopped on a bike one night, but it was a bit wobbly so he moved to the next available one. He started his workout listening to his ipod and watching the news silently, when he felt like he was being sprayed. He looked over and not only was Mr. Sweaty Guy sweating, but it was literally pouring out of him and landing on Danny. Danny toweled himself off in disgust and decided to find something else to do, when Sweaty Guy finished and finally pissed off. But he had left sweat all over the seat, handlebars, and the bleedin' floor, even with paper towels and cleaning solution just a few feet away. Looking at it, Danny wondered if he could still get a refund. It was any wonder ducks weren't swimming in it, or swans for that matter.

"Bloody heathen," Danny muttered.

And God help you if you asked for a fan around here. There were always plenty of fans over by the treadmills. Danny wondered what made the treadmill people so much more important than everyone else, but didn't take one, thinking it might be rude to alter their climate. The gym had been positively stifling when he asked the old man at the desk for one.

"Listen, mate, it's _really_ hot in here, can I bring a fan over," Danny pointed over by the cycles. Gruff Old Man just stared at him, and Danny got the impression he'd met Bob's soul mate. He was certain they'd have loads to talk about if they didn't think conversations were a waste of time.

"Yes, I _mind_," Old Man said, and proceeded to mutter at length about people who wanted to be cool while they exercised. "Honestly, what is wrong with these people? Yer supposed ta' be hot when ya work out."

"Um, hi? I'm standing right here."

"_Still?_"

Nicholas liked the pool and managed to convince Danny to try a few laps. He never did it again, having realized it was a lot harder than it looked. He could actually run more miles than he could swim them, anyhow.

He decided to brave the weight room another day and watched a really muscular bloke lifting weights. He grunted the whole time, just like every bloke over here, but the sheer gayness of it all didn't appear to occur to anybody. If you're practically screaming, Danny would think people would come to the conclusion that the weight was too heavy and stop. It's what he would do, but that was probably why he was flabby and they weren't. Danny would choose flab over ripping his arms out of their sockets any day.

Nicholas wandered over and gave him a friendly poke.

"Never mind that, I have something better for us to do."

"Are we going home?"

"_No_," Nick scowled. "I signed us up for water aerobics and you might actually enjoy yourself, if you changed your attitude."

Danny sighed to himself as quietly as possible. He just wasn't a gym person, didn't want to be a gym person, was determined never to be one, and resented being dragged all the way over here after work. Clearly Nicholas didn't care that Danny wasn't having a good time.

As it turned out, water aerobics wasn't bad. Danny had to admit it, and kind of enjoyed it, until a painfully skinny woman named Amanda joined the class. The class was an hour long, but she still managed to talk through the whole thing. And she honed in on Nicholas like a tractor beam.

"So what do you do for a living, Mr. Angel?"

"I'm a police officer," Nicholas gestured towards Danny. "Danny is a sergeant in the Service as well."

"Oh, wow. I have a great respect for policemen, myself."

"Officers," Danny grumbled, but he might as well have been invisible, quite an accomplishment for a big fat guy in orange swim trunks. Danny did not like the way her eyes roved or her cloying tone of voice.

"I thought about joining the force for a while, but I just wasn't brave enough. It seems way too dangerous."

_Yes, very, there might be a strong wind to blow you away, _Danny thought, sniggering to himself_._

"Well...," Nicholas cleared his throat, "Statistically speaking the fatality rate is comparable to other occupations, but it's more likely to be the result of a collision than a gun or knife."

"Never mind that we've been stabbed and shot," Danny added, "and had a building fall on us, _after_ being shot. I suspect we'll be run over next."

"…Um…Yes...I don't mean to say the job doesn't involve taking risks."

"Well I certainly appreciate what you do," Amanda said.

_Oh puh-lease_. _What's that Run-DMC song again? Let me think…_

Danny had to resist telling her to back the hell off, club Nicholas over the head, and drag him into a cave. Nicholas was not allowed to talk to, flirt with, or date anybody until Danny was properly over him, whether he realized it or not.

Amanda spent the rest of the class doing the usual stuff girls do; Smiling, eye-lash batting, soft giggling, even while cycling underwater. It was impressive, really. Nicholas, being Nicholas, remained impervious to all manner of compliments. Thick as a brick, that one, but Amanda was determined and pulled Danny aside afterwards.

"Your friend…Is he seeing anyone?"

"No," Danny frowned, and didn't bother to hide his displeasure. He' wasn't even sure why he was being honest and wished he had lied instead, but it was Nick's business, not Danny's. It was best not to forget that. Danny did not have exclusive rights to Nicholas, and if Nick wanted to date Skeletor, well, he could do it.

_Genital warts_, he thought later. _I should've totally said that._

On the way home that night, he was still very much in a bad mood. Danny might not like it, but eventually Nick was going to start dating again. That was the long and the short of it. Nicholas had more than his fair share of female admirers and not just the bitch from the gym either. Simply being a single man in a village as small as Sandford guaranteed their curiosity. Single man with a decent job made him worth pursuing. Single hero cop who saves villages and was nice to look at? Forget about it. Every single woman in town wanted to know what was in the Inspector's pants and being Nick's best friend, some of them went to Danny asking, "Is he seeing anyone?" And Danny would have to say no, no, he was not.


End file.
